Quotes About Connection

Some people need their families to become who they're supposed to be. And there's nothing wrong with that. But there are other ways to do it.

They went around the room telling stories about how they'd gotten here. No two were exactly the same, but there was always a certain family resemblance. Somebody went looking for a lost ball in an alley, or a stray goat in a drainage ditch, or fallowed an inexplicable extra cable in the high school computer room which led to a server closet that had never been there before.

But you know how there's a certain kind of person - and it's different for everyone - but suddenly when you see them your eye just snags on them, you get caught and you can't look away, and you're ten times more awake than you were a moment ago, and it's like you're a harp string and somebody just plucked you?

Her white fox fur was coarse and smooth at the same time, and she made little yipping snarls every time he pushed himself deeper inside her. He never wanted to stop.

Welcome to Facelessbook: an antisocial network.

There must still be some last invisible unbroken strand connecting them, something deeper than mourning. The wound had healed but the scar wouldn't fade, not quite.

Julia didn't laugh. She understood that she was looking at another person like herself, a broken person, but Pouncy was even more broken than she was. She was used to feeling sorry for herself, and angry at other people. She was less used at feeling sorry for someone else, but she felt it now. She would never be in love with Pouncy, but she felt love for him.

It was a worrying trend. Everybody else was deep into their own stories, and all the stories were woven together just beneath the surface into a web that included Plum. But what was Plum's story?

Afterward she took the tree aside and conferred with it privately.

You don't learn about yourself by being alone, you learn about yourself from other people.

What was so great about magic anyway, compared to love? Seriously, what?

a bunch of depressed, overeducated shut-ins, but they seemed human to her.

He slid down the stone bench to her end and kissed her and bit her lower lip until she gasped.

Sometimes she looked so beautiful he couldn't believe she had anything to do with him. He could barely believe she existed at all. "But

They moaned a bit at each other, as one does

It was still possible that five years from now, when they were more or less over their post-traumatic stress disorder, they'd all get a big kick out of getting together and talking about it.

When he counted his change, he found only coins from the year he was born.

But what good was greatness if you didn't love?

They spent the rest of that afternoon together. Maybe he felt guilty for giving Quentin the cigarette, or maybe Eliot had decided that the tedium of solitude was ever so slightly greater than the tedium of Quentin's company. Maybe he just needed a straight man. He

It didn't matter where you were, if you were in a room full

It's not about division. It's not about politics. My concern is how do we come together?

A kiss seals two souls for a moment in time.

You don't know a woman until you have had a letter from her.

Whenever humans come together for any reason, music is there: weddings, funerals, graduation from college, men marching off to war, stadium sporting events, a night on the town, prayer, a romantic dinner, mothers rocking their infants to sleep ... music is a part of the fabric of everyday life.